


The First Time

by rockstarpeach



Series: The First Time 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockstarpeach/pseuds/rockstarpeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school AU. Jensen experiences a lot of his first times with Misha. Most of the ones that really stand out are firsts for them both. The story of how they met, fell in love and lived happily ever after, featuring blushing virgin!Jensen and crossdressing!Misha.<br/>A/N: Prequel to a story I wrote a while back, Another Thing To Fall, where Jensen and Misha’s relationship is tested when Jensen meets Jared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Jensen meets the love of his life, he doesn’t even realise that’s what’s happening.

Of course he doesn’t; he’s fifteen years old, uncertain about his sexuality and he’s worried that he’s going to be late for dinner because his first period music teacher gave him detention for making a lewd gesture with Andrea’s flute. He’s been trying to fit in at a new school for two weeks now and sure, people seem to like him fine, but he’s spent the past two Friday nights at home, texting his friends from five states over because he hasn’t actually made any new friends yet. 

He’s still pissed off at his dad for getting that stupid promotion and moving them to the middle of fucking nowhere (okay, Cicero, Illinois, just outside Chicago) and right now he’s busy trying to decide which cheerleader he should ask out – one that’s pretty and popular enough to get him noticed but not one who’s got a bad reputation because Jensen is a good boy – so he’s got other things on his mind than happily ever after with the captain of the debate team.

Which is why he blinks and jerks back, almost drops the slice of pizza that’s halfway to his mouth when Misha Collins sits down next to him at the lunch table and leans close to speak directly into his ear.

“Are you gonna eat that?” he asks Jensen, gesturing at his pizza and Jensen slowly closes his mouth, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh,” he answers, looks down at the tray in front of Misha, the tray that’s got its own slice of pizza, along with two pudding cups and an apple. “Yeah. Thought I might.”

Misha nods and picks up his slice, folds it in half and takes a huge bite from the tip. He looks over at Jensen and smiles a big, open-mouthed smile around his food. Jensen snorts and shakes his head, takes his own normal-sized bite of lunch and waves when Rob, from his geography class, walks by and plops down with a few of his friends a couple tables over.

He’s been eating lunch most days with Rob since he started school here but it seems like Misha might be scaring off the closest thing he has to a friend so far. He’s not sure what he thinks about that, given he has no idea if Misha’s trying to be his friend at this point, or just trying to freak him out.

After ten minutes, Misha still hasn’t said anything else and Jensen is starting to think there might be something wrong with him. Granted, Jensen hasn’t spoken either, but Jensen isn’t the one who sat down next to some random stranger and ogled his lunch.

“I’m Jensen,” he offers lamely. He feels kind of like an idiot, but he needs to fill the silence with _something_. It’s frustrating because he’s usually pretty good with people but Misha is throwing him off for some reason, making him want to check if there’s something between his teeth, or his hair’s sticking up funny.

“Do you like pudding, Jensen?” Misha doesn’t offer his own name. Probably figures Jensen knows it already, because everybody knows who Misha is. He’s not the most popular guy in the school or anything, but he’s a senior and he’s in a few clubs and he does dumb shit like dress up as a clown and sing _Happy Birthday_ to his friend in the cafeteria. It’s sort of hard not to notice him.

“I guess?” he answers, makes it sound like a question because seriously, what’s up with this guy? He’s hot, for sure. And the way he plays with the edge of his lunch tray creates a sort of tingle at the base of Jensen’s spine that makes him squirm a little, but he seems… off.

Misha smiles and nods triumphantly, like he just won a bet with himself and he takes one of the pudding cups from his tray to place it in front of Jensen. Jensen just stares at it for a few seconds until Misha rolls his eyes at himself, mumbles “right, sorry” and passes Jensen one of his spoons.

The thing is, Jensen _doesn’t_ really like pudding, especially the pre-packaged, chocolate crap, but he opens it up and eats it anyway. Because it would be kind of rude not to. And Misha seems oddly determined to be nice to him.

“Thanks, man,” Jensen says when he’s finished. He arranges all his garbage on his tray and makes to grab it up as he starts to stand.

“No problem,” Misha tells him, places a warm hand down over Jensen’s as it grips the orange plastic. Jensen shivers and stops moving. “So I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Jensen blinks and sits back down all the way before wrinkling his nose slightly.

“Why would you do that?”

“You’re a sophomore, right?” Misha starts. “I’m assuming you don’t have a license, but if you really want to drive, I’m open to breaking a law or two. Do you have a piece of paper? Let me give you my address.”

“No,” Jensen says, shaking his head. Shit, talking to this guy is even weirder than sitting in awkward silence with him. “I mean… pick me up for what?”

Misha looks at Jensen like his confusion is somehow adorable and simply says, “our date.”

“We don’t have a date.” They don’t. Jensen’s pretty sure he’d remember making a date with Misha Collins.

“Well, not with you being this deliberately obtuse we don’t. I’m hoping that’s about to change.”

“Wait, you’re asking me out?” How did he miss that?

“Damn,” Misha says, frowning at him like he’s disappointed. “I was hoping you were smart. Oh well. At least you’re cute. So? Seven okay?”

Jensen wants to say yes. Hell, Misha is damn good looking and he seems really nice (if a bit odd) so far, but Jensen has never been on an actual date before and he’s not sure he even knows how. Getting kissed by Jake behind the library and making out with Matt in the locker room after football practice were certainly fun (and educational) experiences, but they didn’t really count as dates. Neither did the time Nancy gave him a hickey or when he got his hand up Lindsey’s skirt.

Plus, he’s still not sure why Misha suddenly decided to talk to him like this and it makes him a little nervous about his motivations. And he’s almost certain that he’s decided on asking Nicki out, because she’s in his grade and she’s single and she kissed his cheek when he leant her a quarter for the payphone last week and she looks damn hot in her cheerleading uniform.

It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of him if he cancelled on her now. Or… cancelled on his plans to make plans that he’d have to cancel if he went on a date with Misha. Or… something.

Fine, so he’s kind of a pussy and he doesn’t want the first impression that the kids at school have of him to be that he’s queer. He’s not even sure if he _is_ queer, because he seems to like girls just fine and if guys do it for him too, well, he doesn’t exactly hide that, but he kind of really wants to date a cheerleader.

Shut up.

He’s quiet for so long that in the end he doesn’t even have to turn Misha down. Misha just kind of nods his head and gives Jensen a small smile, squeezes Jensen’s arm lightly (with the hand that Jensen had completely forgotten was still there) and stands up.

“Some other time, then,” he says. As he starts to walk away he puts that same damn hand on Jensen’s shoulder, slides it to the back of his neck and bends down so that his chin his resting on Jensen’s shoulder from behind.

“I mean it,” he whispers. “You’re not off the hook yet, Jensen Ackles.”

And then he’s gone before Jensen can ask him how he knew his last name.

***

It turns out Nicki doesn’t want to date him, but she’s not opposed to sucking a little face with him after school to try to make Tim jealous. Jensen’s cool with that. Nicki’s still pretty, so he doesn’t mind the kissing and now that he’s actually talked with her a little, he knows she’s sort of a vapid moron, so he _really_ doesn’t mind the not dating.

Jensen’s leaning up against the brick wall out back of the school, Nicki’s got her tongue down his throat and he’s got his hand on her ass over those cute little cheer shorts of hers. It’s nice enough, fun and they’ve gotten enough attention that everyone will be talking about this tomorrow, but as soon as Tim walks by in his practice sweats on the way to the football field, Nicki gives Jensen’s lips one last lick and pulls back.

She winks, wiggles a few fingers at him in an irritatingly cute sort of a wave and skips off with a group of her friends towards the sideline. He’s pretty sure that it’s never going to happen again, but that’s okay. 

He sighs and kicks off the wall, bends down to pick up his backpack where he’d dropped it on the ground and when he turns to start walking home, he stops. Because there’s Misha Collins, where he most certainly _wasn’t_ five seconds ago and Jensen vaguely wonders if he’s got some kind of teleportation powers or something while he swallows his heart back down into his chest, where it belongs.

“Shit, man,” he says, not bothering to fight his grin. Seeing Misha sort of always makes him happy and he can’t quite place why. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“You like girls?” Misha asks him with a humouring smile, like what he’d really just said was ‘you play with Lego? That’s so cute!’. It’s sort of insulting. On the one hand, Jensen hates him for it. On the other, he almost doesn’t care that every time they talk, they seem to be having separate conversations that only occasionally converge.

And the thing is, Jensen doesn’t even know how to answer that question. Assuming he wants to answer at all. He likes girls fine, thinks they’re pretty and he even jerks off thinking about them sometimes, but a few kisses here and there don’t make for much practical research, so he’s not entirely sure.

“Not exclusively,” he settles on, because he thinks that’s true enough. “I do like cheerleaders.”

“That’s good,” Misha tells him, stepping just a little closer. “But just so you know, I’m not above wearing a dress, if it’ll help.”

Jensen barks out a sharp laugh at that and steps around Misha so he’s no longer blocking Jensen’s path.

“I bet you’ve got the legs for it,” Jensen calls back after a few steps and the deep belly laugh he gets from Misha in response is enough to keep him smiling for the rest of the afternoon.

The next morning Jensen stands in front of his locker and spends way too long searching for his English notebook. He’s usually a lot more organised, but it’s not his fault he thumbs over it four times before he actually remembers that purple is for English, not history. It’s just that quarter past eight is way too early to start classes and Jensen’s really not a morning person.

He grabs his book and fishes around under some loose papers on the floor for a pen and when he shuts the locker door he blinks and takes a step back.

Because of course, there’s Misha Collins’ face, right where grey metal had just been. Fuck that guy is quiet.

“Misha,” he says, lips turning up at the corners just slightly. He can’t help it. “You gotta stop just…”

And then Jensen glances down at the rest of Misha, the part that’s not just his face and Jensen freezes. His jaw drops and he looks again, slowly, all the way down Misha’s body to his feet and back up again.

Misha isn’t wearing a dress like he’d mentioned yesterday, but he _is_ dressed up in the short frills and tight-fitting cotton of a female cheerleader. The short-cropped, yellow sweater allows a thin line of skin to peak out around his middle when he moves even a little bit, the pleated white mini-skirt shows off thin, muscular legs that Jensen has to admit he was very, very right about and the ankle socks and white tennis shoes just look ridiculous.

But so, so hot.

He opens his mouth to say something, blinks again and then bursts out laughing. Misha doesn’t react at all, just stands there by Jensen’s locker looking calm, cool and collected, like Jensen’s the one behaving oddly by laughing for no reason.

“What… what the hell, man?” Jensen asks between deep, sucking breaths.

“I like you,” Misha tells him, soundly way too reasonable. “You like cheerleaders. This seemed like the perfect solution.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jensen says, trying to tone down his smile, if only because his cheeks are getting sore. It’s hilarious, the way Misha looks, but Jensen’s not going to lie to himself, it’s also turning him on, in a fucked up kind of way. “You’re dressed like that so I’ll make out with you before football practice tonight?”

“No,” Misha answers, like Jensen’s kind of slow. “I’m wearing this to make you laugh and turn you on.”

Jensen does stop smiling then, his eyes go wide and he holds his notebook tighter in front of him. God, he hopes he’s not that obvious, hopes Misha doesn’t know that outfit is working for Jensen in more than a couple of horribly perverted ways.

“Relax,” Misha tells him, eyes going soft. “You’re not the first guy to find this hot. Hell, you’re not even the first guy _today_. They boy in line behind me for breakfast this morning just about humped my leg.”

“That…” Jensen starts, sort of at a loss. “That makes sense, I guess. You’re very pretty.”

“And that’s only one of the reasons you’re going to agree to go out with me.”

“You seem very sure of yourself.”

“I’m willing to wear this outfit in bed,” Misha tells him, completely deadpan. “And I’m _very_ flexible.”

His eye twitches just slightly, almost a wink but not quite and then he’s gone, bouncing off down the hall leaving Jensen there to watch Misha shake his hips and he nearly chokes on his own tongue.

***

The next day Misha shows up wearing the same damn thing and Jensen wonders where he was even able to get it. He must have a friend on the squad. Either that or he was telling the truth the other day and he _does_ like to dress up like a cheerleader in bed so he just happened to have it lying around.

He sees him in the hall between first and second periods and he’s on his way over to talk to him. To say what, he’s not sure, but two days in a row of dressing like a girl deserves some form of acknowledgement.

Before he gets there though, Misha’s stopped by two other guys, guys Jensen doesn’t know by name but recognises as friends of Misha’s, and once they’ve finished laughing at him, Jensen hears one of them say, “Seriously, Misha. I know you like to play dress up, but what’s going on with this? Did you lose a bet or something?”

Jensen stops a few feet away and just listens.

“I’ve met the man of my dreams,” Misha tells them as he smoothes out a few imaginary wrinkles in his uniform. It should look silly, but it doesn’t. “And I’m declaring my intentions.”

“And your intentions are to be a pretty little girl for him?” one of them asks, Misha and the other laughing together at the question.

“My intentions are to do whatever it takes to get his attention,” Misha tells them, after he’s stopped laughing. “And after that, I’ll let him know who I really am.”

For some reason, as he watches them all turn the corner and head to their next class, that’s when Jensen decides that he really _does_ want to go out on a date with Misha Collins.

And he’s not even going to make him wear the skirt.

***

The first time Jensen goes on a date it’s a Friday night in late October and Misha has been wearing the cheerleading uniform for a full two weeks.

_“Dude, how long are you going to keep wearing that?” Jensen had asked, one day in the hall outside Misha’s locker._

_“Until I ask you out and you say yes.”_

_“You know, you haven’t actually asked me out since that first time.”_

_“True. Perhaps I’m holding off because wearing this makes me feel pretty.”_

_“You’re such a freak.”_

Two days later Jensen finally caved and cornered Misha in the lunch line.

_“Misha. Misha, hold up.”_

_“Jensen. What a pleasant surprise.”_

_“Yeah. I go here too, you know? We’ve had the same lunch period for like, two months.”_

_“Would you like a pudding cup?” Misha had asked, grabbing one off the line and holding it up for Jensen’s approval._

_“No. No, I… Okay, will you please put some damn pants on and go out on a date with me?”_

_“It’s so sudden,” Misha told him, holding a hand to his chest and batting his eyes, all feigned surprise. He looked cuter than fuck, but Jensen had a hard time not punching him in the arm. Bastard._

_“Dude, just… Friday after school. Meet me out front after last period.”_

And now it’s Friday afternoon at 2:47 and Jensen is headed to the front steps of the school, wondering if maybe he should have actually planned something for today. Technically he’s the one that did the asking, in the end, so it’s really his responsibility to make sure Misha has a good time.

He doesn’t have much money on him, so he hopes Misha is down with cheap fun and he thinks that he maybe should remember to pop a breath mint at some point because he’s pretty sure Misha’s going to want Jensen to kiss him at the end of this thing.

He doesn’t have much time to worry about it though, because as soon as he pushes open the front door to the school he sees Misha, leaning against the railing at the bottom of the front stairs and he smiles and stands up straighter, when Jensen makes his way over.

“So where are you taking me?” Jensen tries, but Misha doesn’t let him off the hook. Of course.

“Oh no,” he says as they start to walk together down the street towards downtown. “You’re taking me out, so you tell me where we’re going.”

“Yeah, great,” Jensen mumbles, but he has to bite his lip to keep the grin from spreading across his face when Misha takes his hand.

The date is actually pretty awesome, once they get into it.

Jensen leads Misha to an arcade, probably the last one left in town and the games are shitty and overpriced, but Jensen manages to kick Misha’s ass at _Mike Tyson’s Punch Out_ about as many times as he doubles Misha’s score at _Pacman_ , so all in all, it’s a pretty great afternoon for him, game-wise. And the company is pretty sweet, too.

So is the way Misha’s fingers slink over his spine on occasion and settle on top of his thigh when they get the chance.

It’s not until three hours later and Jensen starts to feel his stomach rumble in anticipation of dinner that he realises he’s only got about five bucks left in his wallet. He doesn’t want to ask Misha to pay for supper, because his dad would kick his ass for taking someone on a date and making them pay for any part of it, but he doesn’t want to call it a night either, because despite his initial reservations, he’s having a pretty kick-ass time.

Now that they’ve gotten the chance to hang out a little, Misha’s actually really fuckin’ cool. He’s funny. Funnier than just dressing up like a chick to get Jensen’s attention and he’s genuinely nice and he seems pretty smart and he still does that thing. That thing where he makes Jensen tingle all over, makes him smile and makes his heart beat faster and makes him half hard just by being there.

Jensen’s liked people before, liked them enough to fool around a little, but he’s never had a boyfriend or girlfriend. If he had, he thinks this might be how it would make him feel and as he wracks his brain to come up with a way to keep the date going on zero cash, he wonders if it’s too early to start calling Misha his boyfriend.

Yeah, he thinks, it probably is. They should at least swap a little spit first. And he’s absolutely going to wait until Misha says it first. He doesn’t want to look desperate.

“Very manly,” Misha tells him, when his game avatar knocks Misha’s out for the third time in a row and Misha nudges Jensen with his shoulder. 

“Shit. Was I supposed to let you win or something?”

Misha laughs and shakes his head. “No. But that’s about enough humiliation for me for one day. Do you want to go grab something to eat?”

Shit. He’s so screwed here. Or, he is until he sees that on the few pool tables on the other side of the arcade, people are playing for money. Not much, looks like about two bucks a game, but Jensen’s pretty good and if he can get in there, he can probably make enough to buy Misha some pizza or a burger.

“Sure, yeah,” Jensen says, but he’s leading Misha towards the back already. “You wanna shoot some stick first though? Looks like fun.”

“It’s not really my game,” Misha tells him, puts his hand on Jensen’s bicep as he’s reaching into his jeans. “But you go ahead. I like to watch.”

Jensen coughs a little, his fingers fumble over the bills in his pocket but he manages to pull a couple of them out, smile at Misha and put the money down on the side of the table to secure his place in line. And all without looking like too much of an idiot.

Jensen ends up winning five games in a row and even though Misha is encouraging him to keep going, he decides to quit while he’s ahead. The last thing he needs is to get overconfident and end up coming off like a giant loser. It’s more than a little unnerving, how eager he is to make a good impression here.

“Thought you were hungry,” he says and Misha nods, throws an arm over Jensen’s shoulders while they navigate through the machines and people and out onto the street.

“I like falafel,” Misha tells him, before Jensen can even ask where he wants to go.

“I… uh…” Jensen says, looking up and down the street helplessly, because he’s pretty sure there isn’t actually any falafel within five miles of where they are. “What about tacos?”

Misha ducks his head close to Jensen’s and slips his arm down so he’s once again holding Jensen’s hand. “Not quite the same thing,” Misha tells him. “But that sounds really good, too.”

Dinner is uneventful but pleasant and when they’re finished Jensen has three dollars left and he’s still not ready to say goodnight.

He feels like a dickhead for it, but they sneak into a movie afterwards, just to keep the date going. Jensen knows the door, knows how to yank, how hard and at what angle. Knows to wait until the movie has been playing for about ten minutes already and knows to keep low and to the right once they’re inside.

Misha, of course, is awesome about the whole thing and doesn’t even mention the sneaking in thing except to ask how he knows how to do this.

“My cousin works here,” Jensen whispers while some girl onscreen fits herself into a skimpy dress, and her friends fill up their glasses with wine, chattering about some ‘hot new club’. Figures they’d sneak into some chick flick. “He gets free passes, but he gives them to his girlfriend, so he taught me how to get in without getting noticed. It’s only this theatre though, and I never know what’s playing ahead of time. Sorry about…” he trails off and waves at the screen.

Misha laughs and leans closer, rests a hand on Jensen’s leg and Jensen thinks ‘fuck it’, lifts his arm and places it easily around Misha’s shoulders. “To be completely honest,” Misha says, “I’m not going to be paying a lot of attention to the movie.”

“You just went along with this to get me in a close, dark space,” Jensen says, pretending to sound scandalised.

“And you’re surprised? I was pretty sure I’ve been obvious about that since the first day we met.”

“If you think I’m kissing you for the first time in the middle of a Christina Applegate movie with a bunch of girls from our school sitting two rows behind us, think again,” Jensen mock-scolds.

“So you _are_ going to kiss me,” Misha says, and settles into his chair to face the screen instead of Jensen. It’s not exactly the response Jensen expected, but he’ll take it. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Jensen smiles and doesn’t really notice the rest of the movie pass.

He walks Misha home afterwards, because he’s a gentleman.

Misha tells him he doesn’t have to, but Jensen knows that when he gets home his parents are going to ask where the hell he’s been until ten o’clock without calling and he’s going to have to tell them. He’ll get in enough shit for missing supper, he doesn’t want to hear them bitch at him for not making sure his date got home safe, even though Misha’s seventeen years old and knows the neighbourhood a lot better than Jensen does.

They stop on the sidewalk just in front of the path that leads up to Misha’s front door. It’s about a twenty minute walk from here to Jensen’s house – they live in opposite directions from the school – but it’s a nice night and Jensen really doesn’t mind.

“So, thanks,” Jensen says when he sees Misha start to smirk. Mostly just so that he can be the one talking, because he has no idea what Misha is going to say and he hates that. Almost as much as he loves it.

“I had fun,” Misha tells him.

“Yeah. Me too. But I don’t just mean for tonight. I mean… thanks for pretty much forcing me to ask you out in the first place. For not giving up just because I was more interested in pompoms than in giving you a shot.”

“I have pompoms,” Misha smiles. “But I’m saving them for a special occasion.”

Jensen laughs sharply and then reaches out, pulls him close to him with one hand on his shoulder, the other on the back of his neck and he kisses him.

It starts out soft, dry, just lips on lips and then Misha whimpers a little and steps closer and opens his mouth. Jensen follows Misha’s lead and slides his tongue past Misha’s lips, across his tongue and he licks the roof of Misha’s mouth once. He pauses so they can both take a breath and then they come back together, lips pressing slow and lazy against each other as his hands tighten in Misha’s hair.

Jensen doesn’t have a lot of experience, but he’s done this a few times before. And it’s really never felt like this, never got his heart pumping quite so fast or got his dick so hard so quickly. Never made his chest feel light or made him never ever want to let go.

He knows he has to let go though, so he presses one last, soft kiss to Misha’s lips and steps back, breathing heavily as he wipes the corner of Misha’s mouth with his tongue.

“Wow,” he says and wants to punch himself in the mouth so he shuts up. Way to be the exact opposite of cool, asshat.

“Indeed,” Misha agrees and Jensen feels a little better. Not much, but a little.

His nerves must be more obvious than he realised because Misha puts both his hands on Jensen’s upper arms and rubs up and down soothingly as he says, “Hey, Jensen, listen. I know you were a little worried. About today. That you wouldn’t do well, or you’d make a fool of yourself or something.”

“Great,” Jensen snorts. He really can’t deny it. “That’s great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“But you don’t need to be worried,” Misha continues. “You did great. You were very impressive tonight.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Jensen asks, narrowing his eyes. He doesn’t need to be made fun of, here. Sure he was kind of on the lame side in a few places tonight, what with not doing a single thing that Misha actually _likes_ , but Misha doesn’t need to rub it in. Jensen tried, is the thing. He really, actually _tried_.

“No,” Misha shakes his head. “I’m really not. You’re adorable, even when you don’t mean to be, but before you get angry about that, you should know. This was honestly was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“It’s uh… the _only_ date I’ve ever been on,” Jensen admits, feeling even stupider than he did at the start of the date. Misha, thankfully, doesn’t comment on that. Jensen’s starting to like him more and more.

“I’m going to tell you something right now,” Misha says, pressing his hand to Jensen’s, palms together and he threads their fingers. “And I don’t want you to freak out.”

“Um…” Jensen’s not quite sure what to expect. That’s okay though, because Misha goes on, doesn’t wait for a response and doesn’t seem be the least bit self-conscious. 

“I’m going to fall in love with you.”

“You are?” Jensen asks, somewhat sceptical, because those are some pretty heavy words for a first date. Also, he’s not sure he wants to hear that anybody is, or is planning on being, in love with him. He’s fifteen years old, for fuck’s sake. Love is… for when you’re grown up, when you’re a doctor, or a garbage collector and you’re picking out china patterns to match the babies you’re having.

Jensen’s nowhere near ready for _love_ yet.

“I am. And it’s going to be so easy. And I’m going to make you love me back.”

“You think so?” It’s a challenge this time, Jensen smiles while he asks, because Misha has to be kidding, just messing around and being all romantic or some shit because their date went so well.

Only Misha stops smiling then, gets this totally serious look on his face and stares right into Jensen’s eyes, like he _means_ it.

“I do,” he says. “Thank you for tonight, Jensen.”

And then Misha kisses him one last time before he walks up the steps to his front door and goes inside.

Even though it’s not what Misha wanted, Jensen _is_ a little freaked out. Mostly because he thinks Misha might be right.

***

The first time Jensen watches _Cool Hand Luke_ is on a Thursday night in early December and he spends more time concentrating on Misha’s tongue in his mouth than he does on the movie.

Misha’s parents are out for the night and he invited Jensen over with the promise of action movies and pizza. It’s their third date (fourth if he counts the time last week when they both skipped class to make out in the third floor boy’s room) and Jensen’s parents have started asking him if it’s ‘serious’.

He came out to them by force, when his old gym teacher caught him and Matt in the locker room and called their parents, and they were pretty cool about it. But Misha is the first person he’s dated at all since then, let alone dated three times, and they’ve been asking to meet him.

He’ll bring Misha by soon, maybe when he figures out how to answer his parents question about how serious it is. 

For now though, he’s not worrying about that. He’s full, comfortable, happy on the couch in Misha’s basement with Misha splayed out on top of him and he’s honestly not thinking any further into their future than how awesome it would be if Misha moved his hips a little to the left and sucked a bit harder at the hollow of Jensen’s throat.

He doesn’t do either, but that’s okay because it’s all really, really good.

Misha moves slightly after a while, sandwiches himself between Jensen and the back of the couch so that Jensen’s body is open, free to his touch. Misha takes advantage as he kisses along Jensen’s jaw, easy, butterfly kisses until he reaches Jensen’s mouth and then he turns into some kind of porn star.

He attacks Jensen’s mouth, his tongue snaking out, pushing past Jensen’s lips and inside, gliding over Jensen’s teeth as his hand works up under Jensen’s shirt, tracing soft patterns on the skin of his stomach.

Jensen groans, his stomach clenches and relaxes which only seems to make Misha moan louder into his mouth in approval and Jensen’s hands cup the back of Misha’s head and neck, hold him in place while he licks into his mouth.

They’re at it for long enough that Jensen’s tried and failed to hide his erection a few times – angling his hips away or adjusting his pants – before Misha’s hand slowly starts to lower. The tips of his fingers curl under the waistband of Jensen’s jeans, then they slip further, brush the head of Jensen’s hard cock over the thin cotton of his boxers.

Jensen’s cock jerks and he sucks in a breath, panics and lets go of Misha’s neck to cover Misha’s wrist so it can’t keep going. Misha freezes and then pulls back so fast it’s like he’s been burned, and he looks down into Jensen’s eyes.

“You okay?” he asks, breathy and little squeaky.

“Yeah,” Jensen answers and hey, what do you know? He’s sounding a little squeaky himself. “I Just…”

He’s just nervous. Scared as fuck, really, because he’s never done this before. Misha has, he’s sure, because Misha’s been so good at everything, knows just how to touch Jensen to make him crazy and Jensen doesn’t want to be bad at it. Plus, Jensen isn’t actually ready to take this further, despite what his hormones are telling him.

Misha’s older, he’s probably had lots of sex and Jensen’s heard his older brother talking with his friends. He knows guys can be jerks and they sometimes dump people for not putting out, but Jensen doesn’t actually care. He wants to wait and if that’s a deal breaker for Misha, he’d rather know now.

“Just what?” Misha asks, frowning. “Seriously, Jensen. If I do something you don’t like, I want you to tell me.”

“No,” Jensen corrects with a shake of his head. “No, I liked it. I _really_ liked it. I just. I’m not ready for more than this right now.”

Misha looks at him, brows furrowed like he’s trying to crack some code.

“I’m not ready to have sex with you right now either, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Okay,” Jensen says, stupidly. “Awesome. But uh… I’m not even really thinking about pre-sex yet. The kissing and stuff is good, but that’s all I want right now. Just… so you know. So you don’t expect anything.”

“Are you a virgin?” Misha asks after a beat, and the question is honest, curious, holds no judgment at all.

Still, Jensen narrows his eyes and jerks back, snaps “no!” much too quickly even though it’s a lie. He doesn’t know what makes him say it. Maybe he just wants to look as cool as Misha obviously is.

“Huh,” Misha says with an almost shrug, like Jensen’s answer doesn’t really matter. “I am.”

“…What?”

“And even if I wasn’t, I’d never pressure you.”

“You’re what?” Jensen asks again, shaking his head stupidly.

“A virgin. Does that surprise you?”

“Well, yeah,” Jensen admits, even as he feels like ten kinds of idiot for it. He’s kind of a dick for just assuming Misha’s gotten around and he’s an even bigger dick for assuming that’s what he wants Jensen for. “You’re very… confident.”

Misha smiles then, a smile that’s a cross between amused and delighted. 

“My first boyfriend was two years ago,” Misha tells him, settling in over top of Jensen again, slipping his hand around Jensen’s back and getting comfortable, as if he’s getting ready to tell a long, bedtime story. “We dated for over a year. Traded a few blowjobs. Okay, more than a few,” he adds with a grin and Jensen joins him.

“Since then?” Jensen asks quietly. He’s not sure why he cares, but it’s nice to hear Misha talking about something personal. They’ve been casual so far, keeping each other at somewhat of a distance and Jensen’s looking forward to breaking those barriers. Slowly.

“I went out with a boy in the chess club a few times. He jerked me off twice in the front seat of my car,” Misha answers flatly, like that memory isn’t quite as fond as his first boyfriend. Jensen hopes that someday down the road, Misha remembers him like he does the first guy.

“And that’s it?”

“Yep,” Misha says, nuzzles into Jensen’s neck and presses a sucking kiss to his pulse point.

“You’re a virgin?”

“Yep.”

It’s a few minutes of silence between them, Paul Newman blowing shit up in the background, before Jensen says quietly, “me too.”

Misha squeezes him a little bit tighter, but doesn’t say anything until the movie is over and he walks Jensen to the door.

“Ken’s having a party next Saturday,” Misha says, after they’ve spent a good five minutes kissing each other goodbye.

“Ken’s a dick,” Jensen says, frowning. Misha knows Ken’s a dick, so why the hell would he be talking to Jensen about him having a party?

“Yeah,” Misha agrees, screwing up his face like it’s common knowledge and Jensen’s an idiot for pointing that out. “He is. But he throws one hell of a party.”

“That’s nice, I guess.” Jensen still doesn’t get why Misha’s telling him this.

“I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt here, and just assume that being around me reduces your brain function because I’m so devastatingly beautiful,” Misha says, smiling and pulling Jensen close, kissing him one more time.

“Dude, I can stop the making out, you know,” Jensen says, scowling and pushing Misha away with a hand on his chest. The fact that Misha leans in and kisses him again, and Jensen lets him, proves to them both that he’s full of shit, but still. He doesn’t need to be insulted here.

“Everyone’s going to be there,” Misha tells him, when he lets him go. “Everyone is always there, whether they like Ken or not.”

“Yeah. Okay, either start making sense or kiss me again, so I can get the hell out of here.”

“Everyone will be there,” Misha says again. “And I want you to be there. With me. If you want to.”

Jensen processes that for a while. Apparently he’s quiet for a little too long, because Misha sighs in frustration and his thumb works nervously over the fray on his jeans pocket.

“Look, if you want to keep this quiet…” he starts, but that’s as far as he gets before Jensen backs him into the doorframe and kisses him quiet. Jensen’s not exactly one to advertise anything about his personal life, but the last thing he wants is for Misha to think he’s ashamed of being with him.

“Yes,” he says. “I’ll be there.”

Misha smiles and grips his hip, pushes so Jensen staggers back and turns him around so that he’s heading down the walkway. Jensen laughs, gets halfway to the sidewalk before Misha calls out.

“I’m still planning on falling in love with you,” he says, maybe a little too loudly.

Jensen pauses, smiles so wide his face hurts and keeps on walking.

***

The first time Jensen gets a blow job is on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, two days after his sixteenth birthday. 

He’s just aced a history test and he’s laughing as he talks with Julie about what they answered on the essay section when Misha comes to find him by his locker after class and invites him over for supper. With his parents. It’ll be the first time.

He’s about to say ‘no’, because he’s supposed to go Julie’s house to study, but she catches his eye and smiles.

“No worries,” she says. “Travis and AJ are coming, so I’m betting we’ll spend more time in front of the television than the books, anyway. Go. Have fun.”

“Are you sure?” Jensen frowns. Now that he’s finally made some good friends here he doesn’t want to start flaking out on them just to hang out with his boyfriend. Maybe boyfriend. They still haven’t actually talked about that yet.

“I’m sure,” she says, nodding and giving Jensen a slight shoulder bump to nudge him closer to Misha. “You can buy me dinner tomorrow to make up for it.”

Jensen laughs and takes Misha’s hand. “You got it.”

Julie leans over to kiss his cheek before she saunters off and Jensen quickly looks himself up and down to make sure there are no rips or stains on his clothes. It’s not a huge deal, he knows that, but he doesn’t want to look like a hobo when he meets the folks, because he plans on being with Misha for a damn long time and he wants to make a good first impression.

He shrugs and figures he doesn’t look like too much of a deviant so he turns to Misha and says, “Lead the way.”

Misha does and Jensen thinks as they walk, keeping Misha’s hand the whole seven blocks and nudging his hip, his shoulder whenever he feels like it. He never wanted to move to Cicero in the first place, but right now he’s pretty glad he did. And only some of that is down to Misha.

He’s made some pretty good friends since he’s moved here, he’s joined the football team (he’s only second string but he’s still got a uniform that Misha’s always begging him to wear), he’s got a part time job two days a week after school at the video store so he gets to borrow movies for free and his classes are surprisingly cool. 

And the fact that he’s got a pretty steady Friday night date and someone to make out with in the hallways in between classes sort of rounds everything out nicely, as far as Jensen’s concerned. High school in Illinois could actually turn out to be pretty awesome.

“You okay?” Jensen hears Misha ask and it’s only after he’s sitting on the couch in Misha’s basement that he even realises he’s sort of zoned out for the entire walk. 

“Yeah, mostly,” he answers, feels warm and relaxed when Misha sits down next to him and leans in close. “I want your parents to like me.”

“How could they not?” Misha asks as he sits up straight and takes Jensen’s face in his hands. “I’m serious, Jensen. How could they possibly not?”

Jensen just shrugs in response, because honestly he doesn’t even know. Or, he doesn’t know how to voice it. Misha gets straight As and he’s going off to college in the fall and he volunteers at the homeless shelter and he’s well spoken and he watches CNN.

Jensen’s more athletic than intellectual and he’ll be stuck in high school for two years after Misha moves on and he spends his free time watching Italian soap operas and cracking dirty jokes with his friends. Not that Misha doesn’t have a raunchy side, but he has a feeling he doesn’t let it out at the supper table.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Misha says, “stop it. This isn’t an inquisition. They’ll like you, because you’re a likable person. And even if they don’t, they’ll pretend to, because they know _I_ like you.” 

Misha smiles to let Jensen know he’s joking and Jensen rolls his eyes at himself for being such a pussy about this. Misha’s right. They’re just dating, not getting married, so Misha’s parents probably won’t care one way or the other about what they probably think is some random high school fling. And Jensen knows how to be likable, when he wants to be, so it’ll be fine, he knows that. He’s just being paranoid.

It was fine last week when Misha met _his_ parents. It was more than fine, really, because they’d been asking to meet him since their first date back in October and now that they have, Misha has an open invitation to the Ackles’ house and Jensen is allowed to stay out until eleven when they’re on a date. Which is all kinds of cool, considering six days ago Jensen’s curfew was ten o’clock.

His parents _love_ Misha. Plus, Jensen promised his mom that they’re not having sex and he doesn’t plan on it any time soon, so that helped.

“Wanna play some Madden?” Jensen asks after he looks at the clock and realises that it’s only quarter past three and Misha’s parents won’t be home for another two hours.

“Nah,” Misha says, picking up the remote and turning on the television. “I think there’s an old Baywatch on.”

“You don’t like Baywatch,” Jensen points out. “Too many boobs. I don’t like it either.”

Misha’s eyes crinkle at the corners and he leans in, presses his mouth to Jensen’s ear.

“Exactly.”

Jensen’s man enough to admit that he whimpers a little and five minutes later Misha has him pinned to the couch with his hands on Jensen’s spread knees and he’s kneeling on the floor between Jensen’s legs.

It starts out as a hand job. It’s new in the way that his pants are open and his cock is standing tall and proud from the V of his legs while Misha’s fingers rub over it, but he’s had a hand on his dick before. Misha’s stuck his hand down his pants, brushed his fingers over Jensen’s tip, palmed it while he tickled down the shaft, but it was while they were pressed together, face to face and Misha’s never actually _seen_ it before.

He’s also rubbed his crotch up against Misha’s a couple of times before this. Once he thinks he made Misha come in his pants, but he was too shy to ask. So what Misha’s doing right now is definitely new.

He’s not aggressive about it, not by a long shot. He’s tentative, kissing Jensen’s hip or the inside of his thigh through his pants with each slight movement of his hand and he doesn’t go further until Jensen nods down at him, silent permission and Misha wraps a tight fist around him and starts pumping. 

It’s not until Misha presses his elbows to the insides of Jensen’s thighs and pries them apart even further, that he finally speaks.

“I want to suck you,” Misha tells him, and Jensen has to blink because the tone of his voice doesn’t match up at all with his request. Jensen doesn’t know how to answer, doesn’t want to have to because whatever he says he’s pretty sure he’ll sound like an idiot. He does want Misha to suck him down, though. He’s this far in and it feels fucking fantastic and it’s a little soon, sure, but he doesn’t want to stop.

“Okay,” Jensen says, after a loud swallow.

“Are you sure?” Misha asks, sensing Jensen’s apprehension and sitting back on his heels. “Because I can wait, Jensen. I’m not in a hurry and I don’t want to rush you.”

“I appreciate that,” Jensen says with a tight smile. “But if you stop right now, I’m gonna break up with you.”

“Does that mean we’re boyfriends?” Misha asks, lips curving up in a slow grin.

“Blow me and I’ll fucking marry you,” Jensen tells him and Misha laughs.

“I’m not that easy,” he says, and swallows Jensen down.

It’s pretty much the best thing he’s ever felt, warmth and wetness and tightness in a way that his own hand can’t possibly manage. Misha sucks and licks and swallows and Jensen can barely sit still, cries out at the pleasure and his hands ball up into fists on his thighs, work their way into Misha’s hair when the sucking gets harder, more intense.

“Holy…” he pants out, jerks his hips forward and squeezes the back of Misha’s neck. “Misha. Babe. I’m gonna…”

Misha stills for a moment and looks up at him, locks his eyes on Jensen’s with his mouth open wide and full of Jensen’s cock, swallows hard and that’s it. Jensen screams, empties himself down Misha’s throat. He’s pretty sure he blacks out after, because the next thing he knows Misha is kissing his mouth and fastening his pants.

He cups Jensen’s cheek when he’s done and presses their foreheads together.

“Come on,” Misha says, tugging at Jensen’s hand. “My mom will be home soon and we’ll make a better impression if we’re already started on the salad instead of making out on the couch when she gets here.”

“But…” Jensen protests, eyes darting down to Misha’s crotch. It’s not like he’s in a hurry to suck him off, but Jensen doesn’t want to be a cock tease. Misha did it, Jensen can do it.

“No,” Misha says with a kiss. “I didn’t do this for reciprocation.”

“I know,” Jensen tells him, because he does know. Nothing about what Misha just did for him held even the faintest hint of selfish motivations. “Still…”

“Soon. I promise.”

Jensen hesitates, then nods and takes Misha’s hand, following him upstairs.

Misha’s parents are nice. They grill him a little over dinner, ask about his studies, his family his extra-curriculars. They even go so far as to ask his intentions towards Misha, but they’re almost laughing when they do and Misha hisses at them to shut up while Jensen smiles politely and just says that he likes Misha very much.

Overall it’s a good evening and when Jensen heads home Misha kisses him goodbye so hard and so long that Jensen needs to jerk off before he falls asleep that night.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The first time Jensen thinks he’s going to actually die of embarrassment is on a Saturday afternoon in late August, almost a year after he first met Misha.

His parents sit him down to give him ‘the talk’, which would be horrifying enough on its own, but the fact that they do it when Misha’s there just pushes the whole experience those extra few notches past horrible and into mortifying.

Jensen’s in his bedroom with Misha, finishing off a package of Skittles and trying to decide what they want to do that night. Misha is lying on his bed with his hands behind his head and Jensen has his desk chair swivelled around to face him, feet kicked up on the mattress next to Misha and his toes are poking into Misha’s leg as he rocks himself slightly and tosses every other candy in the vague direction of Misha’s mouth.

Some of them even hit their target, but most are scattered around the pillow and the floor.

“Movie?” Jensen suggests and Misha winces as Jensen’s latest toss bounces off Misha’s tooth.

“We’ve seen everything,” Misha says, picks up one of the discarded candies and flicks it at Jensen, who just barely manages to duck out of the way and not catch it in his left eye. “A bunch of people are going over to Katie’s place later. Pool party, I think.”

It’s weird, Jensen thinks, that even though all Misha’s friends are really cool with him, and all his friends are really cool with Misha, that they don’t actually have any mutual friends, even after a year together. It’s not a problem, they always get enough time together and nobody ever feels awkward, it’s just… odd.

“Yeah, I guess,” Jensen shrugs, sticks his fingers into the Skittles bag to find it empty and then scrunches it up and tosses it in the garbage bin next to his desk. “You wanna grab some pizza on the way, or should I tell my parents we’re eating here?”

Misha opens his mouth to answer but he’s interrupted by a knock on Jensen’s door.

“Come in,” he calls and he frowns at the open doorway when both his parents walk in. They’re standing a little straighter than normal, their faces tight and their mouths in thin lines. For a few seconds Jensen thinks he’s in serious shit here, but try as he might, he can’t think of anything he’s done wrong lately.

He kicks his feet off the bed and sits up straight in the chair, darts a glance at Misha and watches while he sits up as well, folds one foot under the other leg and presses his back against the wall.

“Mom?” Jensen asks after thirty seconds have passed and nobody has spoken. “Dad? What’s going on?”

Jensen’s mom smiles crookedly at him, then Misha, and takes his dad’s arm to pull him next to her as she sits down on the bench seat under Jensen’s bedroom window. His dad stumbles a little, his hands clasped behind his back, but when he sits he’s forced to move them and Jensen sees that he’s holding something in one hand, and when Jensen squints he can just make out the silver embosses letters across the top of the box. TROJAN, it says, and with a sinking feeling in his gut Jensen realises his dad is holding a box of condoms.

Fucking shit.

“Relax, dear,” his mom tells him. “Nothing’s wrong. Your dad and I just wanted to talk to you. Both of you.”

“About?” Jensen’s stomach feels like it’s in his throat and he can’t keep his fingers from fidgeting with the cord his of mouse. He looks at Misha and he’s just sitting there, calm as you please. He almost looks like he’s smiling, the fucker.

“Jensen, Misha,” she starts, voice warm if slightly shaky as she works a steadying hand up and down Jensen’s dad’s thigh. “You two boys have been together a while now.”

“About a year, yes,” Misha answers for him, since Jensen just nods like a dumbass.

His mom shoots Misha a smile before turning back to Jensen.

“We want you to know that we know what it’s like to be kids. To be with someone you care for and not be able to keep your hands to yourselves.”

“Mom…” Jensen starts, shaking his head, but his mom cuts him off, ignoring him.

“We trust you. Both of you. You’re old enough to start making decisions for yourself about what’s best for you but we just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. That you’re being safe.”

“ _Mom_.”

“Wear these,” Jensen’s dad grudgingly spits out as he gets up from the bench and crosses to Jensen in three huge strides, placing the box of condoms in Jensen’s hand. Jensen takes them, stares down at them dumbly until his dad is sitting down next to his mom again. He blinks then and looks up at his parents in utter horror.

He thinks he might hear Misha actually snicker off to his side, but he doesn’t risk looking at him to check.

“Or make sure Misha wears them,” his mom says, “if that’s how it works out.”

“Mom!” Jensen shouts, tossing the condoms on his desk like they’re suddenly on fire.

Jensen’s dad just growls and gives Misha a glare that would send a lesser man running for the door, but Misha just raises his hands in mock surrender, lips curling up in a calm half-smile.

Jensen’s parents have been pretty cool about him liking guys right from the jump, but his dad still hasn’t been able to get over some deeply ingrained stereotypes. Jensen’s a man, albeit a young one and his dad has his own ideas about what that means. Never mind the fact that Misha’s also a man, a man two years older than Jensen, because Jensen is an Ackles boy and he has to pay for dinner and hold doors open and walk his date home and, apparently, be the one in the position to wear the condom during sex.

“We’re not having sex,” Jensen says desperately, looking from his parents to Misha and back again.

“I know that, sweetie,” his mom says. “But when you do, we want you to be prepared.”

“So uh…” his dad starts, clears his throat and starts again. “If you need to talk or… anything. We’re here, Jensen. We love you and we want you to know you don’t have to hide anything from us. That uh… goes for you too, Misha. You’re older, you’re probably more experienced and…”

“I would never ask Jensen to do something he’s not ready for,” Misha cuts him off, his tone sharp and his posture suddenly rigid.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Jensen’s mom quickly assures him and Jensen groans and sinks deeper into his chair. If he hopes real hard, maybe it will swallow him up and spare him some humiliation.

Jensen’s dad gives Misha a tight smile and says, “I know that, son. That’s not what I meant. You’re both young. There’s no hurry. I’m sure it doesn’t feel that way right now to the two of you, but you’ve got plenty of time. And if you do want to… have sex, I just want you to be aware of the risks and the possible emotional and physical side effects.”

Misha nods and relaxes again and Jensen’s dad turns to Jensen once more.

“Sex can be great,” he says and Jensen can feel his face get so hot and flushed with blood that he thinks it might catch fire. “But it’s a serious thing. You need to be careful, you need to respect each other. I’m sure you know the risks – you’ve probably learnt all about it in health class – but if there’s anything else you need, either of you, we’re here. And if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine too. Just be safe, and make sure you know what you’re doing.”

“I…” Jensen starts, blinks and shakes his head. This cannot be happening. It just can’t.

“Thank you, Mr. Ackles,” Misha says, taking some of the heat off. “Mrs. Ackles. When we decide to take that step, it’ll be when we’re both ready.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, finally joining the conversation. He knows if he doesn’t say something now his parents are just going to ambush him later. And they’ll probably think that Misha actually _is_ pressuring him, or some bullshit. “We’ll be safe, dad. And we’ll think it through. But I swear, we’re not there yet. So can we just… stop talking about my non-existent sex life?”

“God yes,” his dad says on a harsh exhale and his parents stand together. Well, at least Jensen can take comfort in the fact that his dad hates this shit as much as he does. For one brief moment he sort of hopes that his mom and Misha get sick off some bad seafood so he can laugh at their pain, because they both seem to be way too comfortable with this sex talk.

“Will you boys be here for supper?” his mom asks, edging towards the door with his dad.

“Sure,” Jensen answers, not really paying attention. “Can Misha and I have a few minutes?”

“Supper will be in an hour,” his mom says, giving them each one last comforting smile before she shuts his bedroom door.

“Holy fuck, that was horrible,” Jensen says, tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut. Wish as he might, the world doesn’t reset to half an hour ago.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Misha tells him, reaches over to grab Jensen’s hand and tugs him towards the bed. Jensen goes willingly and ends up splayed out half on top of Misha with his face buried in Misha’s neck.

“I’m sorry, Misha. Seriously, they shouldn’t have put you through that.”

“I really didn’t mind,” Misha says.

“Yeah, I know. What the fuck is up with that? You should be even more freaked out than me. I thought my dad was gonna kick your ass for a minute there.”

Misha muffles his laugh against the side of Jensen’s head and kisses his temple.

“They care about you. They want what’s best for you. So do I. I understand where they’re coming from.”

“I’m your boyfriend, jackass,” Jensen snaps, biting down on Misha’s neck a little too hard in protest. “I’m not someone you have to look out for.”

“Of course you’re not. I know you can look out for yourself. I know you’d never do something just because someone else wanted it and I know that if I ever pushed you too far you’d kick my ass without thinking twice.”

That much is true. Jensen’s pretty steadfast in his life decisions and for all of Misha’s two extra years, Jensen’s got two inches on him in height and he’s definitely more muscular. They’ve never had a physical fight (Jensen’s never had one at all outside of football practice) but if they did, Jensen’s pretty sure he’d win.

“Yeah,” Jensen croaks, rolls so he’s on his back next to Misha. “Still, you think we can pretend this didn’t happen? Shit, I can’t believe my dad gave me condoms.”

“I noticed they were lubricated,” Misha says, and Jensen looks over at him a little slack-jawed. He didn’t know Misha was paying that much attention. As soon as Jensen figured out what was in the box, he couldn’t look away fast enough. “And ribbed. I think that’s pretty considerate.”

“Oh my God, you’re a freak,” Jensen groans. “Seriously, why do I even hang out with you?”

“Because I have an unusually large penis,” Misha answers, deadpan and Jensen nearly chokes on his tongue. “And because I adore you. It would be futile to fight me on this.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees. “I _am_ pretty awesome. It’s probably easier on me to just keep letting you buy me pretty things and give me blow jobs.”

“Speaking of sex,” Misha says, even though Jensen hadn’t actually mentioned sex. “We’ve got an hour to kill and a whole box of condoms…”

“Not a chance,” Jensen says, cutting Misha off with a short shake of his head. He pushes himself up to sitting and smacks his open palm across Misha’s hip. “After that, I don’t think we can even make out in this house anymore.”

“Prude,” Misha pouts and Jensen has to fight not to lean forward and take Misha’s bottom lip between his teeth. Huh. Turns out a sex talk from his parents isn’t a total boner-kill after all.

“Whatever,” Jensen says and forces himself up off the bed. “So Katie’s tonight? Think you’ll be able to keep it in your pants with me all wet and shirtless?” he teases, before digging through his dresser for his swim shorts.

“You may be nearly irresistible,” Misha tells him, sitting up and watching Jensen’s ass as he bends over to look in the bottom drawer, “but wait until you see me in a bikini. It might be _you_ who has a hard time restraining himself.”

Jensen just blinks at him and hopes to God he’s not serious before he flips on his television and they watch the second half of an old Bonanza rerun.

Turns out, Misha _does_ have a bikini. And he wears it, without any shame at all.

It’s tiny and red and it looks so fucking ridiculous that it shouldn’t make Jensen as hard as it does. He spends the first hour of the party sitting in a chair on the pool deck watching Misha swim and trying to hide his erection and it’s not until he excuses himself and jerks off in the bathroom that he can actually manage to get into the pool without outing himself as a complete pervert.

He makes Misha pull his car over to the side of a back road on their way back to Jensen’s after so Jensen can blow him right there in the car.

Despite the incredibly awkward start, the day ends on a high note.

***

The first time someone tells Jensen that they love him (someone outside of his immediate family anyway) is at about three o’clock in the morning on a Sunday.

It’s two weeks after the Saturday afternoon that shall not be mentioned and his parents are away for the weekend. Misha’s spending the night; he’s allowed to do that, now. In fact, if Misha didn’t agree to stay with Jensen, his parents probably wouldn’t have left him home by himself. Which is stupid, because yes, fine, Jensen is only sixteen years old, but Misha’s only a year and half older, so it’s not like anything that could go wrong just magically won’t with him around.

He has to admit though, he does feel better not being on his own and his parents probably know that, so he’s not really going to protest. And getting to spend the night, the _whole_ night, with his boyfriend, three nights in a row, is pretty damn awesome. Especially since in just two days he’s not going to be seeing much of Misha at all.

School is starting up on Tuesday. Jensen’s going into his junior year and Misha is leaving Monday, moving into the dorms at Ohio State. Because Misha pulled Columbus out of a hat. Seriously. One university is as good as the next, he figures and he wants to get out of the house but not go too far away.

Jensen doesn’t want him to go, he’ll miss him of course, but he gets it. It’s not like it’s so far that they’ll never see each other (Misha’s promised to come home to visit at least once a month) and they can talk on the phone all the time, but there’s still a selfish part of Jensen that wants to lock him up in his bedroom and never let him go.

Jensen doesn’t even realise he’s been staring at the ceiling instead of the television until the sound suddenly quiets and the room goes black.

“What’s up?” Misha asks him, putting the remote down on the table before rolling onto his side and throwing a leg over one of Jensen’s. Jensen’s bed is a twin, so it’s a tight fit, but they don’t mind. “You haven’t even once commented on the magnificence that is George Clooney’s ass and you didn’t seem to notice when I jerked off to the shirtless scene.”

“You did _what_?” Jensen asks, pushing up on his elbows as he looks Misha up and down. He doesn’t look rumpled or mussed at all and when Jensen’s gaze lands on Misha’s face in the dark he’s smirking. Bastard. “Screw you.”

“Seriously,” Misha says, smile fading as he pushes Jensen back down and leans over him. He kisses him, brief press of lips that slowly gets closer, more intimate, lets his tongue slide out over Jensen’s and by the time he pulls back Jensen is panting and dizzy. “Is something wrong?”

“Nah,” Jensen tells him, because really, it’s nothing. Nothing they haven’t talked about already and there’s nothing they can do about it, anyway. “I’m just thinking about how much I’m gonna miss you.”

“You won’t even notice I’m gone,” Misha says and Jensen snorts at that and rolls his eyes. As if.

“Let’s not talk about it. We still have tonight and tomorrow night, and that kissing was pretty damn good, so you think we could maybe get back to that, instead?”

Misha laughs then, a low, deep chuckle that vibrates through his body and into Jensen’s and Jensen doesn’t bother suppressing his shiver, doesn’t hide the way the sound always goes right to his cock.

“I think that can be arranged,” Misha says and leans over him again, presses their lips together.

It’s nice then. Warm and a little sloppy and Jensen’s getting so tired that it’s all kind of a fuzzy haze and he sort of never, ever wants it to stop. His hand finds its way down the front of Misha’s blue flannel pants and his fingers wrap around the hard shaft they find there, pump up and down a few times until the tip gets slick and Jensen spreads the wetness around with the palm of his hand.

Misha moans into his ear, lets out these tiny little gasps as he rocks into Jensen’s hand and it’s only then that Jensen feels Misha’s hand cupping his aching erection through the thin cotton of his sleep shorts.

“Oh God,” Misha pants, bucks once sharply and squeezes Jensen’s cock so hard it almost hurts. “Oh, God, Jensen.”

“Mmmm,” Jensen agrees, wriggles his own hips forward to try to settle more firmly in Misha’s grasp but Misha just pressed his palm forward, mashing Jensen’s cock up against his belly and then lets go. He grabs Jensen’s wrist instead, stops the movements of his fist up and down and it takes a few seconds for his breathing to get under control.

A few seconds that, Jensen’s not gonna lie, make him a little nervous.

“You know,” Misha says, going for his typical calm, cool and collected, but missing the mark by an enormous margin, “we do have those condoms. And if I recall, your dad did give me permission to fuck you.”

Jensen takes his hand out of Misha’s pants and laughs a shaky laugh.

“Did you see his face? I’m pretty sure any permission he gave was for me to do the fucking. And even that was pretty grudging.”

Misha lifts his hand then, places it on Jensen’s cheek. He looks into Jensen’s eyes with so much honest affection and intensity and suddenly it’s not even a little bit funny anymore.

“I’m good either way,” Misha tells him seriously and Jensen swallows down around the lump in his throat. He honestly hadn’t expected this to come up tonight. Maybe he was being naïve, but he’d thought Misha wanted to wait, too. He really should have known better. Misha’s eighteen, he’s starting college in two days and they’ve got the house to themselves for another thirty-six hours or so. Of course he wants to get laid.

“I’m… I’m not,” Jensen finally says, the words coming out cracked and quiet. “Sorry, baby. I’m really sorry. I know you’ve been waiting a long time, but…”

“Hey,” Misha says sharply, cutting off what could possibly turn into some idiotic babbling. “It’s okay. I mean it. I haven’t actually been waiting that long. I wasn’t ready at first either. I am now, but if you’re still not… Jensen, I get that. And honestly, you should know that about me.”

“I do,” Jensen tells him fiercely, his hand moving to Misha’s hip and gripping tight. “Of course I do.”

And he does. He knows Misha isn’t going to get fed up and leave him because Jensen doesn’t put out. Misha’s not that guy, never has been. And now Jensen feels totally awkward, he’s ruined the mood and here they are, in bed together with half-wilted erections and he doesn’t know if he should try to go back to the touching or if he should just call it a night.

“So,” he starts, relaxing his grip on Misha’s hip to rub his hand over his thigh. “You wanna just go to sleep then, or…” 

“I love you,” Misha tells him, completely out of the blue and Jensen freezes. His hand stills on Misha’s leg and his eyes open wide, every muscle tensed as he holds his breath, ready to hightail it out of there. This is new. This is something he saw coming even less than the request for sex.

“Don’t freak out,” Misha goes on, smiling softly as he places a kiss to the corner of Jensen’s tense mouth. “I’m not just saying it to hear it back, or to get into your pants, though both would be nice.” He pauses for a moment while Jensen lets out a short burst of laughter before he continues. “I’m saying it because it’s true. It’s been true for months. I love you, Jensen. I fell in love with you a long time ago and I was right; it was easy.”

Jensen honestly has no idea what to make of that, except for the vague notion he’s got of throwing Misha down on the bed and kissing him until they both pass out. He doesn’t though, which is probably a good thing.

“If it’s been so long,” he asks, instead, “why’d you wait until now to tell me?”

Misha just closes his eyes for a moment, opens them and looks over at Jensen with an easy grin. 

“The same reason you’re still waiting to tell me,” he says and Jensen frowns.

“What makes you think I love you?”

“I didn’t say you did,” Misha doesn’t quite answer and Jensen decides that a monster make-out session ending in mutual hand jobs is a better way to spend their second last night together than arguing semantics over feelings.

When Misha pulls out of Jensen’s driveway at 4 o’clock Monday afternoon with a car full of clothes, books, movies and a mismatched set of dishes, there’s an unsettled feeling in Jensen’s stomach he can’t quite identify.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The first time Jensen realises he’s in love, Misha’s not even there to share it with him.

It’s heading towards the middle of October and he’s only seen Misha once since he left for Columbus.

Jensen’s just finished football practice (he’s the starting halfback now, which means he spends a lot more time on the game than he did last year) and after he says goodbye to his friends on the team he meets Rob at Burger King, to grab some supper and study for their Economics test.

They don’t do as much studying as they do picking at their third order of fries and shooting the shit while Rob drools over the girl who works the cash. As usual. Jensen doesn’t mind. Rob’s a pretty cool guy, once you get past the fact that he’s one of the biggest nerds in school and he’s gotten to be a really good friend.

“So,” Rob says, dunking a fry into the mess of ketchup on his burger wrapper and stuffing it into his mouth. “Cindy’s pretty into you, dude.”

Jensen shrugs and tries not to watch as Rob talks with his mouth full. Cindy is in their grade, transferred in from across town and she’s already got half the guys at school panting after her. Not that Jensen can blame them. She’s hot as fuck.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You _guess_? Jensen, she goes to all your practices, sits with you at lunch. She’s turned down everyone who’s asked her out because she’s waiting for you to do it.”

“Yeah, well. I got a boyfriend. She’s gonna be waiting a while, if she’s waiting for me. She knows that. Everyone knows that.”

“You and Misha are staying together?” Rob asks, and Jensen raises an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t we?”

“I dunno, man. You could have your pick of girls here. And I think there are a couple gay guys in the drama club that are totally into you, too. You’re not tempted?”

“No,” Jensen answers without hesitation. It’s a lie. Of course he’s tempted, but not nearly enough to even consider it. He wants Misha, nobody else. That much he’s known since their first date, so that’s not the revelation. That comes next.

“And you’re not worried that he’s gonna find someone else? I hear college is full of hot bodies and drunken orgies. Are you sure he’s on the same page you are?”

“I’m sure,” Jensen answers and it’s then that he realises, he really is sure. Misha loves him. Misha _loves_ him. And he loves Misha right back. They’re going to be together forever, there’s not a doubt in his mind. 

He knows that now and it feels _good_.

When he gets home that night the first thing he does is call his boyfriend.

“Hey there, sexy,” Misha purrs into the phone, instead of a hello and Jensen’s tossing his backpack into the corner of his room and kicking out of his jeans as he grips the phone tight.

“I love you,” he blurts out and then holds his breath waiting for Misha’s response.

Misha’s quiet for several eternal seconds before he answers, “what took you so long?” and Jensen laughs as he falls onto his bed with his phone pressed to his cheek.

“I’m never letting you go, you know that, right?”

It’s Misha’s turn to laugh then, warm and soft down the line.

“I’m serious. This is a forever kind of thing, you and me.” Misha laughs louder and Jensen scowls and grits his teeth. “I mean it, jackass.”

“No,” Misha says. “I know you do. I got there a while ago. I love you too, Jensen.”

“Right.” Jensen coughs, suddenly not sure where to go from here. He hadn’t exactly thought it through when he picked up the phone a few seconds ago. “So, uh… phone sex?”

That’s a first for both of them, too, but it’s certainly not a last.

***

The first time Jensen gets jealous, really and truly jealous, beyond things like wishing he got the train set his best friend did for Christmas when they were seven or getting upset because his big brother got new jeans and Jensen got hand-me-downs when they were kids, is on a Friday afternoon, close to the end his junior year.

He hasn’t seen Misha in a few weeks and it’s the first time Jensen’s been out to Columbus all year. Jensen’s parents had said that he couldn’t take the car that far on his own until he’d had his license for a full year, so exactly two weeks and four days after his seventeenth birthday, Jensen ditches his afternoon classes and hops onto the I-90 to surprise his boyfriend.

Six hours later he parks in the south lot and gets out the map he sketched from the university website earlier. Misha’s building is easy to find. He ducks inside as someone else is leaving and he takes the elevator up to the seventh floor. He ends up going the wrong way down the circular hallway, so it takes him a few extra seconds, but eventually he finds himself standing outside door number 14.

Misha’s home, Jensen knows. Jensen wouldn’t drive all the way out here if there was a chance Misha was out with friends or at the library studying, so Jensen emailed him earlier and made a phone sex date for after supper.

Misha would never miss that, not in a million years. Jensen smiles when he thinks that instead of beautiful, dirty whispers to each other over the line, now they can do all those things in person. A shiver runs down his spine when he imagines Misha’s hands all over him, Misha’s body flush against his and Misha’s lips pressing, kissing, sucking.

He’s half hard by the time he lifts his hand to knock and just as he does he hears a distinctly female giggle coming from the other side of the door. He looks at the number again to make sure he’s got the right room and when he realises he does he figures she must be one of Misha’s friends.

He’s sort of embarrassingly excited to meet her, actually, if that’s the case. He’s heard about some of the people Misha has met here – Mike and Mark and Richard and Traci and a whole handful of others – and he wants to know them too. Wants to be part of Misha’s life here at school as well as at home and he wants Misha’s friends to like him.

Jensen’s planning on coming to school here next year after he graduates and it couldn’t hurt to already know some people, he figures.

He knocks. There are some muffled voices from the other side of the door, a bang or two and then the girl shouts “go away, we’re busy”. Jensen frowns and knocks again, harder this time, with more purpose.

There’s more laughter, this time definitely from Misha and it’s only a few more seconds before the door is opened about half way. By a girl. A very pretty girl, thin yet curvy with long, dark hair and a sly smile.

She’s also half naked, in a pair of hot pink short shorts and a short cropped black tank top that’s not doing a great job of hiding her rack. Which, objectively speaking, is a pretty great rack and Jensen sort of stares at it for a few seconds with his mouth hanging open. It’s not his fault – it’s _right there_.

The girl cocks her head to the side and her smiles turns knowing, like she’s pleased about where he’s looking.

“Can I help you?”

Jensen snaps his face up to hers and clears his throat, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Yeah, I’m uh… looking for Misha.”

“Jensen?” Misha says from somewhere inside. The door is yanked the rest of the way open and then Misha’s grabbing him by the arm and pulling him inside. He smiles wide, so wide it lights up his whole face and crinkles the corners of his eyes. He leans over and kisses Jensen, soft and brief but Misha’s eyes flutter shut and Jensen’s heart trips a little. “Shit, what are you doing here?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, coughing and stepping back a bit, eyes darting to the girl briefly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” His tone makes it very clear that he’s not sorry at all and Misha looks confused for a second before he turns his head to the girl, like he’s forgotten that she’s even there.

“Right, of course. Jensen, this is Rachel. She lives down the hall. She was just leaving.” He says the last part pointedly in Rachel’s direction

“So this is Jensen, huh?” Rachel asks, looking Jensen up and down in a way that makes him feel a little uncomfortable, like she wants to eat him alive and she’s trying to decide which wine goes best with ‘cute high school boy’. “He’s pretty. You’ve got good taste, I’ll give you that, Collins.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Jensen asks, scowling a little because this girl is just all kinds of rubbing him the wrong way. He wouldn’t normally be so rude, but Misha _did_ say she was leaving and Jensen sort of _really_ wants to get his hand down his boyfriend’s pants. Without an audience. Plus, she’s looking at Misha the same way she’s looking at Jensen and it gets Jensen’s hackles up a bit.

“Relax, kid,” she laughs. “I’m not trying to steal your boyfriend. Well, not permanently, anyway. I just want to borrow him for a while.”

His first instinct is to puff up his chest and loudly proclaim that he’s not a kid, but he figures that would probably be counterproductive. Instead his scowl hardens and his jaw ticks. He _really_ doesn’t like this girl. Which makes him feel a little guilty, because he doesn’t even know her yet.

“And she’s failing, miserably,” Misha says, placing a calming hand on the crook of Jensen’s arm, like he’s afraid he might take a swing at her or something. Jensen’s never hit a girl before, never plans on it, but when he takes a deep breath and realises how tense he is, he’s grateful for Misha’s touch. “I’ll see you later, Rachel.” 

“You still coming to Mark’s tonight?” she asks, still smiling as she trails a teasing finger down Misha’s chest and takes a step backwards, towards the door.

Misha darts a glance at Jensen and then looks back at Rachel.

“I really doubt it,” he says and Rachel rolls her eyes.

“Always such a slave to your prick, Collins,” she says, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door behind her.

The second they’re alone Misha’s got him pushed up against the cinderblock wall with one hand around the back of his neck and the other working its way over Jensen’s stomach and into the waistband of his pants.

“Seriously,” he mumbles against Jensen’s lips in between fevered kisses that Jensen can’t help but return even though he feels off, out of his skin and not entirely welcome. This isn’t anything like seeing Misha at home. This place is new, not his, something that’s always been Misha’s alone and he didn’t plan on his first experience here being some skank trying to get the two of them into a threesome or some fucked up shit. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d surprise you,” Jensen says when Misha finally backs up enough for both of them to catch their breath. “My folks said I could have the car for the weekend, fucking _finally_ , and I wanted to see you. But if you had plans…”

He trails off, not quite knowing how to finish without accusing Misha of… fuck, he doesn’t even know. But they had plans tonight. Sure, they were plans to talk on the phone, but Misha agreed, so Misha should have been here, in his room, not at Mark’s place with _Rachel_.

“I told her maybe,” Misha says, leaning back in again and pressing his face against Jensen’s, voice a rumble in his ear. “I wasn’t going anywhere until I was done telling you all about how my mouth waters whenever I touch myself, how I wish it was your hand instead. How I want to taste you, how I suck on my fingers while I fist my cock.” His voice drops impossibly lower then and Jensen swallows, eyes slamming shut and dick getting hard so fast he gets dizzy when Misha says, “about the vibrator I bought a couple of weeks ago, and how it feels when I slide it inside.”

“Okay,” Jensen pants, shaking his head to try to lift the fog of arousal. He pushes Misha back slightly to get some much needed air. “I show up to find you in here with some hot chick with a huge hard on for you, and you were gonna ditch me to go hang out with her. I'm trying to be pissed, here. No fair distracting me like that, man.”

Misha tilts he head and his lips quirk up along with his eyebrow.

“You don’t need to be jealous,” he says and he sounds just amused enough to piss Jensen off all over again.

“I’m not…” Jensen starts and then heaves a frustrated sigh. “Okay, yeah, fine. But she seems pretty into you, Misha. And what the hell were you guys even doing in here, anyway?”

Misha’s smirk fades and his eyes turn unreadable, even for Jensen.

“I know you’re not accusing me of cheating on you,” he says.

Of course that’s what he says and of course he doesn’t get it. Because Misha never gets jealous. Never. Doesn’t even know how. Not even when Jensen and AJ got drunk on New Years and played strip poker until they passed out, naked and tangled up in the sheets on Misha’s bed.

Misha found them around one in the morning, snoring and drooling all over each other and when Misha cleared his throat and Jensen jolted awake, swearing that it wasn’t what it looked like, Misha had just smiled, kissed him on the forehead, tucked him back in and said “I know.”

So yeah, Jensen has no doubt that Misha cannot possibly relate to this… this fucked up feeling of _ick_ that he’s dealing with right now. And, he knows Misha is right, because the very last thing he’s doing is accusing Misha of cheating. Jensen knows better.

“No, I’m… being an idiot,” Jensen tells him, offers a crooked smile. “But hey, maybe we should go out tonight. I haven’t met any of your friends yet. Don’t you want to introduce me? Show me off?”

Misha’s grin is back and he’s pulling Jensen by the hand until they’re both sitting on his bed. Jensen looks around for the first time and notices that the room looks pretty much exactly the same as it did in the pictures Misha emailed him the first week he was here. The only differences are a few new notes and pictures pinned to the cork board, a few extra books on the shelves and a bigger pile of dirty laundry.

“You don’t need to stake your claim, Jensen,” Misha tells him. “Rachel’s a little aggressive, but I promise I can handle it.”

“Yeah,” Jensen sighs. “Yeah, I know. Still, could be fun.”

“How long are you here for?”

“Sunday afternoon. I need to have the car back by six.”

“Yeah, okay,” Misha agrees. “We’ll go to Mark and Richard’s tonight. But tomorrow night I’m not letting you out of this bed.”

“Deal,” Jensen smiles. When he leans over and pins Misha down underneath him, he starts to feel truly good for the first time since he left school today.

Later Jensen finds out that he was wrong; hanging with Misha’s friends is _not_ fun.

Oh, Mark and Richard turn out to be pretty cool guys and they share a pretty decent three bedroom apartment with a fourth year who never comes out of his room. They’re looking for a new roommate for next year and Misha’s already decided that he’ll probably be it. So that part isn’t so bad.

But it’s loud, there are drunk people everywhere and it kind of feels like every party Jensen goes to back home. Including the fact that Misha is nowhere to be found, which considering Jensen drove six hours to get here, kind of sucks. 

They arrived together, shared a beer and a few kisses out on the balcony before Misha was dragged off by some big guy in a football jersey (just his type, Jensen thinks bitterly) and Jensen was cornered by a handful of drunken guys with a deck of cards and a fresh case of beer.

An hour and six hands of poker later Jensen is glaringly sober and up about seventy-five bucks. He’s really starting to like college boys, and not just for the hot factor of having an older, more worldly boyfriend, but he’s also starting to wonder where the hell Misha has gotten off to.

He excuses himself from the game and wanders through the small apartment, nods and smiles at a few people, asks if anybody has seen his boyfriend until someone waves a hand in the direction of Richard’s bedroom.

When Jensen gets there he blinks so that his eyes can adjust to the dimmer light and haze of smoke, then the half dozen people in the room start to come into focus. He sees Richard, sitting at his desk chair with a bong in his lap, staring at the ceiling with a satisfied smile. He sees some other people he doesn’t recognise, one on top of Richard’s desk, face up with his head hanging off the end and his knees bent with his feet planted on the solid surface. He thinks that guy is asleep. Either that or dead, so he’s hoping for asleep.

A few more are on the floor, one of them laughing along with a girl lying face down over the foot of Richard’s bed.

And then he sees Misha. On Richard’s bed as well, on his back and propped up against the headboard. With Rachel straddling his lap, leaning over him with her hands on his shoulders and head tilted slightly. And they’re… _kissing_? Oh, fuck no.

“What the hell?!” Jensen growls and they break apart slowly, turning to face Jensen with a trail of smoke puffing up from both their mouths.

“Hey, stud,” Rachel drawls from between curled lips. She slides one hand to the back of Misha’s neck and arches her back, sticking her tits out as she holds her hand out to Jensen. Ash drops down from a sliver of white and it's only then that Jensen realises they were sharing a hit, not making out. “Want some?”

“What I want,” Jensen says, jaw snapped tight and hands clenched at his sides, “is for you to get the fuck off my boyfriend.”

“Jensen,” Misha barks out, voice low and every bit and angry as Jensen’s. He grabs Rachel’s hips and lifts her off his lap before he swings his legs around and stands up, walking closer. “Lower your voice.”

“No,” Jensen says, shaking his head. “You know what? Fuck you.”

He turns and starts to make his way down the hall and towards the front door, nearly shaking with anger and adrenaline. He knows. Deep down, he _knows_ it was completely innocent, that Misha would never. But he saw what he saw, twice today, and his mind sometimes runs away on him. Makes decisions and twists things around.

And Misha’s going way too far, especially after what happened earlier. Misha might be cool with Jensen sleeping naked with and dry humping his friends, but he knows that Jensen’s a little more reserved when it comes to things like that.

“Jensen,” Misha says, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder when he gets to the door. “Wait.”

“Why should I?” Jensen snaps, spinning around. “You seemed like you were having a pretty good time without me.”

“Jensen,” Misha tries again, resigned almost, shoulders slumped and sad. “Come on. This isn’t the time or place for this conversation. Besides, it was nothing. You know that.”

“Yeah. I wonder though. What’ll it be next time, when I’m not here and she’s straddling you with her tongue down your throat?”

“I will never want anyone but you,” Misha tells him. “For the rest of my life. Don’t make this a big deal, because it isn’t.”

“Yeah, never,” Jensen snorts. “Except for when you’re getting ridden by a pretty girl with a joint and a nice set of tits.”

Misha’s eyes turn hard then, so hard that Jensen loses some of his own anger and he takes a half step back.

“Don’t talk about her, or any other girl, like that’s all she is,” he tells him.

“Well don’t…” Jensen starts, growls in frustration and cuts himself off. He didn’t. Didn’t mean to, anyway, because of course he doesn’t think of girls like that. But Rachel has been pretty open about her sexuality and she’s definitely been using her assets, or trying to anyway, to get into Misha’s pants. “Don’t look at her like she is.”

“I couldn’t even if I wasn’t completely in love with you,” Misha says. “Tits don’t do anything for me. _Rachel_ doesn’t do anything for me. I’m _gay_.”

“Yeah well… fucking act like it!” Jensen screams and Misha looks at him like he’s crazy. Jensen can’t blame him – he has no idea what the hell he’s talking about anymore. This whole conversation has completely gotten away from him. He just knows that he’s angry and jealous and he’s making a huge ass of himself and he needs to get the hell out of there.

He runs, down the hall and down twelve flights of stairs, down the street and across the field and through rows and rows of cars in the parking lot. By the time he gets to his car, he’s crying. Crying over a boy. Put that on the list of firsts, too.

They don’t talk for three weeks after that, not until school is out for Misha and he’s moved out of the dorm, headed back to Cicero. His first stop is Jensen’s school (Jensen’s still got three weeks left until summer vacation) and Jensen sees him parked on the road out front, car still full to bursting with all his shit while he leans up against the side, one leg bent so his foot rests on the passenger door panel.

Jensen stops, lets Cindy ramble on a little more about their latest chemistry assignment before he agrees to meet her after practice on Friday to get it started. He bends down and presses his customary kiss to the top her head, absently this time but she doesn’t seem to notice as she covers his hand with one of hers. Drapes her fingers over it and winks at him before turning and heading off to catch up with her friends.

She never did learn to take a hint, but that’s okay. It’s harmless flirting, she knows Jensen isn’t interested and Jensen flirts back most of the time because it’s fun. It makes him feel good and it makes her feel good and it doesn’t mean he loves Misha any less and… he’s an idiot.

He starts walking, doesn’t even care about the people he brushes past on his way, steps on one kid’s open math book and doesn’t even notice when he gets in the middle of a few of his friends tossing a football around. All he can see is Misha and when he gets to him he just stands there for a few seconds, tries to figure out the perfect thing to say.

The thing that will make Misha love him again and let them go back to the way they were before Jensen freaked out for absolutely no reason and made a complete fool out of them both in front of all Misha’s friends.

“So how about I don’t come visit you at school anymore?” is what he finally says, the words coming out a little cracked, broken as he tugs the string on his backpack.

“How about you do?” Misha answers, pulling his hand away from the fidgeting, holds his fingers still.

“I’m really sorry. I was a dick and you must hate me. Fuck, all your friends must hate me.”

“I don’t. _They_ don’t,” Misha smiles. “Rachel is a good friend, but you’re not the only one who thinks she sometimes takes things too far. I should have been more aware.”

“So… we’re good?” Jensen asks, coughing a little and looking down at the hood of Misha’s Pontiac. It’s a little more beat up that the last time he saw it and he wonders if Misha’s been letting Richard drive it.

“Yes, please,” Misha says, breathes the words out into Jensen’s mouth as he pulls him closer and Jensen opens up under him, lets his tongue inside and kisses him back, hard.

“Thank you,” Jensen gasps, when he pulls back to take a breath. “Fuck, thank you.” He dives back in then, keeps on kissing Misha as his classmates walk by, whistle at them, catcall and tell them to get a room. He doesn’t care. He’s just happy to have Misha back. Back in Cicero at least for a few months, and back with him.

“Get in the car,” Misha mumbles into his mouth and Jensen manages to break off the kiss because the car sounds like a good place to be. He slips forward and gets into the passenger seat as he watches Misha go around to the driver’s side.

“Your place or mine?” Jensen asks with a slight smile, fastening his seatbelt.

“Mine,” Misha tells him, eyes focused intently on Jensen’s. “My parents aren’t home and I haven’t even jerked off since the last time I saw you. That’s way too long. I’m going to take you home, bring you up to my room and suck your dick ‘til you scream. I might even hump your leg and get your pants all dirty.”

Jensen just stares at Misha for a beat, blinks and swallows, tries to take in a normal breath but it’s too heavy and he ends up lightheaded. 

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” he says. “Do you uh… Do you really have a vibrator?”

“If you’re lucky, I might even show you.”

Jensen thinks he might actually pass out because holy _fuck_.

“What happened to you while you were off at college?”

Misha’s expression softens then and he reaches across the seats to take Jensen’s hand. He squeezes it once before he lets it go and starts the car.

“I missed you,” Misha finally answers as he pulls out into traffic, and Jensen thinks he knows exactly how Misha feels.

***

The first time Jensen goes all the way is a Saturday night in late April and he’s been eighteen for almost two months.

He’s visiting Misha at school, spending the weekend at the apartment he shares with Mark and Richard, and the more time Jensen spends with them, the more he realises that they’re kind of dicks. Well, okay, they’re not. Not really. They’re nice guys and Jensen has gotten to know them pretty well over the past couple of years but they’re sort of disturbingly interested in Misha’s sex life. 

They seem to think the fact that Misha is almost twenty years old and he’s still a virgin is both extremely sad and extremely hilarious and they have a knack for bringing it up on a pretty fucking regular basis.

They’re not cruel about it, not really, and even though Jensen thinks some of their jokes are in bad taste (mostly because he’s the one being made fun of for being such a prude) he tries not to let it bother him. Misha just snorts and shakes his head when Mark pats him on the back mockingly and says “There, there. I’m sure you’ll lose it by the time you hit fifty.”

He just purses his lips and nods, says he likes emeralds when Richard faux-whispers to Jensen that maybe Misha needs a ring before he puts out and Richard knows a guy who can get him a good price, if he’s interested.

“Never gonna happen,” he says, when they joke that Jensen is going to get tired of waiting and find someone who’s easy instead. And he’s right. Even if it _was_ Misha holding out on taking that final step instead of Jensen, Jensen would never in a million years leave him and he knows the feeling is very mutual.

It’s not until tonight though, when Jensen gets back from the washroom to overhear the end of a conversation he clearly wasn’t supposed to hear, that Misha gets angry.

“They have to be flexible,” Richard is saying as Jensen opens the bathroom door and heads down the hall to the living room. “But I’m telling you, if you can pull it off, it’s fucking amazing.”

“Totally,” Jensen hears Mark agree. “I tried it was Cynthia last week and dude. _Holy fuck_. You should try it sometime. For real.”

“Yeah,” Richard snorts. “If he can ever pry Jensen’s legs apart, I’m sure he’ll get right on that. Seriously, how long are you gonna wait this guy out? Does he have, like, chocolate flavoured come, or something? Because you’ve put in more than enough time, my friend.”

And that, of course, is exactly when Jensen rounds the corner and stops, while all three of the other guys look up at him. Richard’s mouth snaps shut and Misha turns to look at him and narrows his eyes.

“You’re an asshole, Richard,” he says as he stands, shooting his roommate a glare as he crosses the living room to stop in front of Jensen. He smiles softly at him and presses a kiss to his lips but Jensen is sort of frozen and doesn’t respond. He feels like an idiot. Richard’s right, is the thing. He knows Misha wants sex. He’s been ready for a while now but he’s been waiting patiently, never once pressured Jensen and Jensen has no doubt that he’d wait forever if that’s what Jensen wanted.

They’re intimate in a lot of other ways, Misha says, and he never has any complaints about their sex life. They do pretty much everything else, and they’re both more than satisfied.

“Let’s head to bed,” Misha murmurs against his mouth and places a hand on the small of Jensen’s back to steer him towards his bedroom.

He ignores Richard’s call of “Misha” as they walk, even ignores him when he says “Fuck, Jensen, I’m sorry.” Jensen looks back though and offers Richard a strained smile before he follows Misha into his room and closes the door behind them.

“Richard’s an asshole,” Misha says again, as his arms slide around Jensen’s waist and he noses the crook of Jensen’s neck.

“No he’s not,” Jensen says. “He’s just fucking around. And he’s right; it’s a little weird that we haven’t done it yet.”

“It’s not,” Misha tells him, pulls back so he can look at Jensen’s face. “You know I don’t care about that, right? I’m happy with things exactly as they are.”

Jensen smiles and leans forward to kiss Misha again. “I know.” He does know, but he’d be lying if he said that he hasn’t been thinking about taking it further. He wants to, has for a while but every time they’ve fucked around recently they’ve gotten off with hands or mouths or rubbing up against each other before Jensen could make his move.

Tonight though, seems like it might be his chance, now that they’re already talking about it and all.

“Bed?” he suggests and he can feel Misha’s heart beat harder against his chest, hear the hitch in his breath as he lets Jensen walk him backwards.

Jensen kisses him slowly, works his lips over Misha’s neck and his jaw, stops to slide his shirt up over his head and then trails his mouth down Misha’s bare chest. He swirls his tongue over the dip of Misha’s stomach, into his bellybutton as he works his pants open and down.

Misha’s panting and writhing under him by the time he’s mouthed his way down Misha’s right leg and up his left and he lets out a completely adorable squeak when Jensen bites down hard on a hipbone.

“What about you?” Misha asks him breathlessly. Jensen smiles down at him and he sits back to quickly strip himself. He’ll never get tired of looking at Misha like this, naked and spread out and needy. He’s perfect. Fucking perfect and sometimes Jensen can’t believe he’s this lucky. Can’t believe that Misha is _his_.

As soon as he’s naked he gets back on the bed and settles himself between Misha’s legs, wraps his fingers around Misha’s cock and he groans when he feels it jump in his hand and hears Misha suck in a sharp breath.

“Fuck,” Misha breathes out, bucks up into Jensen’s fist as Jensen starts to stroke faster. “Jensen, yes. Don’t stop.”

And Jensen would normally never stop, not when Misha asks him like that, not when he can feel every touch mirrored in his own cock when he rocks it up against the inside of Misha’s thigh. But this time he wants more.

So he stops. He takes a deep breath, summons his nerve and lets his hand slip, palm cupping Misha’s balls while the tip of his middle finger slides into Misha’s crack. He’s a little nervous, because they’ve never done this before, but he knows Misha has a vibrator that he uses on himself when he masturbates so he’s pretty sure Misha won’t mind. 

“Do uh… do you have any condoms?” he asks, licking over Misha’s collar bone.

“No,” Misha says, face scrunched up, confused. “Why would I…” And then his eyes go wide as Jensen’s finger becomes more insistent and his hands still on Jensen’s sides, clenching tightly. “Seriously?”

Jensen smiles and ducks his head to hide his blush. It’s stupid he knows, since Misha knows it’s there anyway. “Yeah. I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s okay, but…”

“No,” Misha cuts him off, so quickly Jensen actually laughs. “No, I want to. Jesus, Jensen, I’ve been wanting to for a couple of years now, but. But you don’t have to do this just because my friends don’t know when to shut up.”

“No,” Jensen agrees. “I don’t. But I _do_ have to do it because you drive me so fucking crazy that I might actually burst if we wait any longer. Plus,” he adds, leaning forward to nuzzle behind Misha’s ear to hide his smirk. “I’m graduating in a couple of months, and what kind of loser goes off to college a virgin?”

Misha throws his head back and laughs at that, kicks his leg forward and twists his body to spin them around and pin Jensen down on the mattress underneath him.

“I love you,” he tells Jensen, leans down to suck Jensen’s lower lip into his mouth, bites down on it gently before he lets go. “I don’t have condoms though. I really didn’t expect this. I can ask Richard, I guess, but…”

“No,” Jensen cuts him off, sliding his hand over Misha’s hip to cup his ass. “Fuck, no. I’m okay without. If you are.”

Misha blinks down at him and then a lazy smile spreads over his face as he reaches into the bedside table for the lube he keeps there.

“I love you,” he says again as he takes one of Jensen’s hands and holds it palm up, tips the bottle and pours some of the slick over Jensen’s fingers. “I’m good without. More than.”

“Shit,” Jensen curses when Misha leans forward, arches his back so his ass is sticking out and guides Jensen’s hand between his legs. Jensen’s slick fingers slide between Misha’s cheeks and Misha spread his legs wider, feet pressed lightly to the outsides of Jensen’s legs.

“Mmmm,” Misha moans in approval when Jensen’s fingers start to move back and forth over his hole, each tip sliding just barely in with every pass. Jensen’s not sure exactly what to do here – he’s never even done this to himself and he doesn’t want to hurt Misha – but he wants pretty much nothing at this point more than he wants to stuff his whole fucking hand inside his boyfriend.

It’s not his fault. Misha’s so tight and warm and all Jensen can think about is what he’s going to feel like around him. Around his fingers, around his cock. So, he pushes in a little more.

Three different fingers he works with, one at a time and Misha makes soft, encouraging noises from above him, starts out sucking a deep bruise into Jensen’s neck. But by the time Jensen’s worked up to getting two fingers inside Misha at once, Misha’s mostly just panting and breathing wetly against the hollow of his throat.

“Yes,” Misha gasps. “Jensen, _yes_. More.”

Jensen licks his lips and carefully, oh so carefully he slides the third finger inside. Misha is so tight, soft and warm and wet and Jensen pushes as much as he can, stills when Misha tenses above him.

“Shit,” he says. “Sorry. Fuck, did I hurt you?”

Misha doesn’t answer, just places a hand on Jensen’s chest and uses it to push himself back so that he’s sitting upright straddling Jensen. He looks down at Jensen with hooded eyes, slowly starts to raise and lower his hips so that he’s fucking himself on Jensen’s fingers and Jensen groans, closes his eyes tightly and slams his head back against the pillow.

Misha’s at it for a good five minutes and Jensen’s managed to force his eyes open to watch, take it all in as Misha moves his hips, as his breath catches and his eyes flutter when Jensen brushes his prostate. Jensen has no first hand experience with that kind of thing, but he’s read some stuff, so he figures that’s what it must be.

It’s so fucking beautiful that it’s almost too much.

“Not fair, baby,” he tells Misha as his cock twitches and dribbles pre-come against his own stomach. “Gonna come before we even get to the main event if you keep being so hot.”

Misha pauses then, eases forward so that Jensen’s fingers slip free and he reaches down to take Jensen’s cock in his hand. He angles it back, presses the head to his loosened hole and moves a hand forward to cup Jensen’s cheek.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he whispers, leaving that final step up to Jensen.

And Jensen is going to grab that step by the balls and fucking take it.

He rolls suddenly to put Misha underneath him again, uses his momentary shock to flip him onto his belly and pull him up so his knees are bent and Jensen is behind him. Misha freezes for a split second but then relaxes, closes his eyes and rests his head on the pillow, angles his hips back toward Jensen.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Misha says again and Jensen places the head of his cock against Misha’s pucker, just rests it there as he leans forward and covers Misha’s back with his front.

“I love you,” Jensen whispers into Misha’s ear, licks the curve and then bites the lobe. “I love you so fucking much.” This is more than just getting off, this is Jensen losing his virginity, Misha doing the same. This is the next logical step, long overdue. 

Jensen’s known for a damn long time that Misha is it for him, that they’ll be together forever and he needs for Misha to know the same thing. Needs to fuck him just right, so he knows the same thing.

Misha’s hand crosses his chest, grasps Jensen’s shoulder where it’s resting over Misha’s and he opens his eyes and smiles.

“From the second I saw you,” Misha tells him, pushing his hips back so the head of Jensen’s cock just barely slips inside and they both gasp. “I knew.”

He doesn’t tell Jensen _what_ he knew, but Jensen thinks he gets it anyway.

Misha comes first, hard and dirty and screaming out underneath Jensen. Jensen follows soon after, vision blurring as he falls forward and squashes Misha to the bed underneath him.

“Oh my God,” Jensen manages, in between shaky breaths. “How the fuck did I wait so long for that?”

Misha doesn’t answer, just turns so Jensen pulls out, falls to the side and wraps a lazy arm around Misha.

“So…” Jensen hesitantly offers, not sure why he feels different. Nothing’s different, not really.

“So much for that safe sex talk your parents gave us a couple of years ago,” Misha says and Jensen can’t help but laugh.

“I’d say waiting until we’ve been together for almost three years and never being with anyone else is pretty damn safe,” Jensen counters.

“Yeah,” Misha agrees, rolls away from Jensen only enough to put himself flat on his stomach. He locks his eyes on Jensen’s as he raises his hips, wiggles them slightly and says, “let’s be safe some more.”

Jensen can’t help but oblige.

***

The first time Jensen proposes marriage is on Misha’s twenty-first birthday, and Misha responds by laughing at him and handing him another beer. They hadn’t bothered to move home for the summer, now that they’re together full time and they share the master bedroom, the room that Misha’s been in since the start of his second year.

Sure, he’s plastered and Misha has just very successfully sucked his brain out through his cock, but that doesn’t mean he’s not completely serious.

“No, I mean it,” Jensen says, squinting his eyes so that the two images of Misha become one. When that fails, he just decides to focus on the one on the right. That always works. “Let’s get hitched. I mean, we already live together,” he reasons, “and you love the fuck out of me, man. You’re never going anywhere, so we might as well make it official. Get, like, tax breaks and health benefits and shit. Right?”

“Well, we’d need jobs that earn us enough money for the tax breaks to matter and we’d need for those jobs to offer medical coverage, but you do make it sound very romantic,” Misha tells him and Jensen frowns because he gets the distinct impression Misha is fucking with him.

He can’t be sure though, since he only heard about half of what Misha just said, so he lets it go.

“Whatever. So is that a yes?”

“I think we might be missed,” Misha says, cocking his head towards their closed bedroom door, and the party going on in the rest of the apartment.

Jensen sighs and rolls his eyes. “I didn’t mean _right now_ , jackass. We’ll… you know. Take some time to plan or whatever. Do it in the fall and order a cake. Coconut, or maybe pumpkin. Fuck, I’m hungry. Wanna get some pizza?”

Misha laughs and tucks Jensen’s softened dick back in his pants before he climbs up the bed and kisses him.

“Pizza as a wedding cake has potential. I like the way you think, Ackles.”

“No, I meant pizza now, wedding later. Wait, maybe you shouldn’t be eating pizza. Don’t you want to slim down so you look good in your dress?”

“Are you calling me fat?” Misha asks and Jensen curses and sits up and puts his beer down on the table next to the bed, takes Misha’s face between his hands and kisses him. Well, he tries to kiss him. He’s not so coordinated though, so mostly he just slobbers all over his lips.

“You’re perfect,” he says. “Don’t think you have to change anything about yourself for me, because I love you exactly as you are. And you’re hot as fuck, sure, but I love you for what’s inside. I promise.” It’s important Misha knows that. He loves him more than he can ever imagine loving anything and he’s sure Misha’s going to look perfect in his dress, no matter what.

“That’s good to know,” Misha tells him and Jensen’s heart sort of flips over when Misha’s smile reaches his eyes. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

Jensen sighs in relief and adjusts himself on the bed, slouching down so that he’s almost horizontal.

“I think you’ll look good in white.” Jensen closes his eyes and wraps his arm around Misha, pulling him in closer. Whoever invented snuggling was a fucking genius. “All pretty and pure and innocent.”

“I am all those things,” Misha agrees easily.

Jensen nods decisively, and tugs Misha tighter, presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“And don’t worry,” he says gravely, seriously. “I won’t tell anyone you beg for my cock every night like a ten dollar whore.” He figures it’s really important people don’t know that, because then Misha might have to wear pink or something and pink is so not his colour.

Misha laughs at that, throws his head back and lets out a deep belly laugh and Jensen pouts, because he thought that was pretty damn considerate of him. Misha shouldn’t be laughing at him, he should be thanking him.

“Baby, I really wish I had a tape recorder right now, because there’s a chance you won’t actually believe me when I tell you about this tomorrow.”

“Fine, whatever,” Jensen scowls. “If you really want to wear pink, that’s up to you. But you’re gonna look like a fuckin’ idiot.” Jensen rolls over, faces away from Misha and lets his face fall into the pillow.

“Okay, champ,” Misha says, low and quiet and right into Jensen’s ear. It makes him shiver, makes him warm and happy and sleepy. “Time for bed.”

Jensen’s already in bed, but before he can point that out Misha’s hands are on him, stripping him out of his pants and his shirt and then he’s curling up behind him and pulling up the covers. Misha’s arm curls around his middle and Jensen promptly falls asleep, Misha’s whispered “I love you” following into his dreams.

***

The first time Jensen lays eyes on someone that gives him that same down-low tingle that Misha does, that same light in his heart and that same need driving through his veins, he ignores it.

Because it’s nothing.

Because him and Misha are forever and cute, young freshman with bodies to die for and smiles even worse don’t mean a thing.

He hopes.

He really, really hopes.

The first time Jensen thinks he’s wrong about that, he doesn’t tell Misha. What would be the point? Nothing has happened and nothing ever will, no matter how much Jensen might have to pretend he doesn’t want it. 

Right?

END


End file.
